Childhood (2)
Compared to other boys my age, I was light on my feet and exceptionally agile.
On top of that, I had picked up a blade at an early age to put food on the table, tussling with wild beasts day in and day out. I was strong, and I knew how to fight. With just a single sword in hand, I was fully confident I could make it on my own. Whether as an Adventurer, a Mercenary, or even a low-ranking soldier, I knew I could pull it off—and truth be told, the prospect genuinely interested me.
Having made up my mind, I pushed myself up from where I sat. It was unfortunate, but I couldn't stay cooped up forever in an orphanage where we couldn't even scrounge together a proper meal. I turned on my heel, intent on walking away.
Yet my legs wouldn't move.
Eina was holding onto my arm.
"...Eina."
Through the sleeve of my shirt, I could feel her slender hand trembling violently. Glancing sideways, I saw her forcing a fragile smile to hold back her tears.
"Adele... were you being serious just now?"
"Yeah."
At my blunt, decisive answer, Eina discreetly wiped at the corners of her eyes.
"If you're really going off to be independent, I suppose I should congratulate you, right? Ber and Angeli both left to pursue the lives they wanted, after all."
"..."
"Still... it's just so sudden."
Ber and Angeli, both a couple of years older than the two of us, had walked away the instant they were capable of earning coin, without sparing a single thought for the younger children left behind. If anything, sticking around when one already possessed the means to make a living—the way I had—was the truly bizarre choice.
"I've been thinking about it for a long time."
As far as I was concerned, I had done more than enough. For the sake of Eina, my only friend, I had endured it all this time, choosing to linger by her side.
"Of course, it'll be lonely without you, and the other kids will miss you too, but everyone will be happy for you. Still... even so..."
Watching her flounder in distress made my chest sink. The sole reason I had ever looked after this orphanage was Eina. She was the one who had taken care of me from the very beginning, the only true friend I had in this world. For her sake alone, I had handed over every copper coin I earned straight to the orphanage.
Yet whether out of sheer, foolish kindness or because she had become a novice nun devoted to God, Eina always seemed to prioritize the other orphans over herself—and even over me. I hated that about her.
"Adele, do you really have to leave right now? It's just... it's so abrupt. Thinking that I won't be able to see you anymore... I can't even wrap my head around it..."
"Are you saying that for my sake? Or for the kids?"
"For our sake."
"If 'we' means you and me, then come with me. I can easily earn enough to feed you."
If only Eina would agree, I wanted to take her away from this place.
"You, me, and the children."
"Forget it, then."
Her view of the world was fundamentally different from mine. In truth, it was only natural. To Eina, this decrepit building was her home. Born and raised within these drafty wooden walls, the Director Nun was her mother, and the orphans were her brothers and sisters. But I was different. I was merely a gutter rat born in the slums who had drifted here by chance. I felt no sentimental attachment to this place.
I furrowed my brow and chewed on my bottom lip, trying to smooth out my expression, but it proved impossible. If I walked away right now, this would be the last time I ever saw her, yet my face remained stubbornly stiff.
And then...
Tears finally spilled over the rim of Eina's downcast eyes. Desperately as she tried to fight them back, the dam had broken. Clear droplets trickled down her pale cheeks in steady tracks.
"Why am I crying...? I didn't mean to do this... S-Sorry, Adele! For showing you such an unsightly mess."
"It's fine. Wipe your face."
Sniffling, Eina scrubbed at her cheeks with her oversized black sleeve. But all it did was rub her skin raw and red, while the tears kept flowing without end. Seeing her look so utterly pathetic weakened my resolve, chipping away at my hardened edge. With a quiet sigh, I pulled a coarse handkerchief from my pocket and pressed it into her hand.
"Use this."
"Thank you..."
She buried her face in the cloth, wiping her tears before blowing her nose with a wet, unladylike honk. I kept my mouth shut and didn't tease her.
"...Adele, even if you have to go." Eina spoke, her voice still thick with unshed sobs. "At least eat the stew I made before you leave."
"Fine."
The moment I answered, she fled into the kitchen as if escaping.
'I skipped my share of potatoes earlier, so I figured dinner was out of the question...'
Having wandered around aimlessly and worked up an appetite, having a meal sounded like a welcome turn of events. Still, a stray thought crossed my mind. It's strange that there's any food left at this hour. Usually, the younger kids swarmed the pots like locusts, scraping every last drop clean long before dusk.
Before long, Eina called out from the kitchen.
"It's ready! I'm bringing it over."
With a dull clatter, a battered iron pot filled with thin vegetable stew was placed onto the crude wooden table beside a chipped ceramic bowl. Inside was exactly one portion—no more, no less.
"Thanks for the food, then."
It was an ordinary—no, frankly rather unappetizing—vegetable stew, but to an empty stomach, it rivaled the finest feast in the kingdom. Just as I lifted my wooden spoon to take the first bite...
Grumble...
A rather pitiful sound broke the silence.
"..."
"..."
A heavy stillness descended upon the room.
And then...
Grumble—
The sound echoed once more. It certainly hadn't come from my belly. Which meant there was only one other possible source. I shifted my gaze toward Eina.
"...Haaah."
A deep, exhausted sigh escaped my lips.
"Eina. You haven't eaten, have you?"
"..."
"Seeing as you can't even answer, I'm right."
"...I did."
"Like hell you did. Good grief."
I wasn't naive enough to take her word for it. In fact, I should have suspected it from the start. There was no way those starving brats would have left any leftovers behind. If there was ever a single exception to that rule, it was only ever one thing: Eina's portion.
Even when the other children managed to eat two meals—or on lucky days, three—Eina restricted herself to a single meager meal a day so the younger ones could have more. Perhaps out of sheer guilt, the children never touched her reserved food. They knew that if she skipped even that, her frail body would simply give out.
I looked closely at her.
Even compared to other girls her age, she was noticeably tiny, with spindly arms and legs that looked ready to snap at the slightest touch. Her body laid bare the undeniable reality of growing up undernourished. The sight cast a dark shadow over my mood. Seeing her fuss over feeding me when she hadn't even eaten herself made my throat tighten with suffocating frustration. A heavy weight settled over my chest.
"Eat with me, Eina."
"Huh? No, I'm fine."
"Fine, my ass. Your stomach's been roaring like thunder since a minute ago."
"Wh-Wh-What are you talking about?! N-No it hasn't!"
Without giving her room to argue, I scooped up a heaping spoonful of warm stew and shoved it straight into her mouth.
"Mmph—?!"
"Down the hatch."
Watching her swallow, the gloom weighing on my mind lightened just a fraction. If I had eaten this pot all by myself, the guilt surely would have choked me, empty stomach or not.
Having been forced to swallow the mouthful, Eina gave me an uneasy, hesitant look.
"Adele, there's barely enough for you as it is, so why...?"
She wasn't wrong. It was a meager serving even for one person.
"Just take it. It's what I want to do. So eat."
Reaching into my coat, I pulled out a spare spoon alongside a piece of hard bread I had hidden away, tore it cleanly in half, and offered one piece to her.
"There. Plenty for both of us now, right?"
"...Y-Yeah."
The crust was rock-hard, but dipping it into the hot broth softened it into something surprisingly hearty. Just as a sense of fullness began to settle in my gut, my eyes caught sight of Eina's face.
She was nibbling at her bread, large, fat tears silently rolling down her cheeks.
"Hey, why are you crying again? Not salty enough for you, so you're seasoning it with tears?"
"It's just... you're being so nice all of a sudden. It really makes it feel real that you're leaving... *Sniff... hic.*"
My banter did nothing to stem the tide; her tears showed no signs of stopping. Seeing her on the verge of breaking into loud wails again, I scowled and spoke in a firm, deliberate voice.
"I'm not leaving. What I said earlier wasn't serious."
"R-Really...?"
"Yeah. So stop scrunching up that already plain face of yours."
"*Sniff...* Wh-Whatever! Every nun who visits always showers me with compliments, saying how pretty I am..."
I had lied.
When I said I was leaving earlier, I had meant every word. And Eina was far from plain.
Watching her clumsily wipe at her wet cheeks, the thought crossed my mind that she looked like an angel. Out of all the women I had encountered in my short life, none were as breathtaking as her. Even draped in an ill-fitting, threadbare novice habit, an unmistakable air of grace seemed to radiate from her. Much like her pure, selfless nature, her silver hair and translucent grey eyes were far too lovely to be trapped in a dreary gutter like this. But I kept those thoughts firmly locked away inside.
"Y-You're really, truly not leaving, right?"
"Keep asking and I actually will."
Still insecure, she kept pressing for reassurance.
"I'm sorry. I won't ask anymore, hehe."
Looking at her innocent giggle, knowing that with proper nourishment she could have outshone any noble lady in the capital, I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth.
'How could I ever leave her behind?'
Abandoning a girl who had gone hungry all day just to save a warm meal for me was something my conscience could never bear. Deny it as I might, I needed Eina. More than anything, I wanted her to be happy.
I put off my departure from the orphanage, and with each passing day, the distance between us closed even further. Perhaps that shared bowl of stew had served as the catalyst to bind us closer together.
Was it because I could feel how deeply she cherished me? I loved being by her side, and she seemed just as happy to be by mine. Gradually, we began to share everything. Whenever we came across a scrap of good food, we split it between us.
Whenever a spare moment arose, we leaned against each other, sharing our body heat against the chill. A feeling that went far beyond mere childhood friendship had begun to take root—and the fond memories we wove together day after day were living proof.
The younger orphans occasionally grumbled about how attached we were to one another, but I turned a deaf ear and ignored them entirely. Eina, too, seemed to hold me above all the others; though she gently soothed the complaining children with soft words, her hands and gaze always returned to care for me first.
Just as those peaceful, blissful days felt like they would continue forever, misfortune struck without warning.
It happened roughly a year later.
In the year I turned thirteen, and Eina turned fourteen...
The elderly Director Nun, who had single-handedly kept the dilapidated orphanage running, collapsed.
And to Eina, the Director Nun was nothing less than a mother.